


Twinks and Condoms

by saintjoy



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dave being a rightfully protective older brother, Incest, M/M, Sadstuck, Underage Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2013-10-17
Packaged: 2017-12-29 17:10:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintjoy/pseuds/saintjoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dave goes looking for Dirk at the small hours in the morning, he finds him in one place he wished he never would.</p>
<p>(Written for the HSWC Bonus Round 4)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twinks and Condoms

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" The words felt like stab wounds to the blond sitting in the lap of a bald man with a green and red skull tattoo on his face. The brothel was dimly lit; two people standing barely five feet apart couldn't see each other past the haze of hookah smoke and groping patrons tossing sums of money in the air with their words, competing for the highest bid to whatever pretty sweetheart was selling themselves as a sex toy. He'd thought he was lucky tonight, being that he barely had to walk in, sit at a table and unbutton the first clasp of his favorite leather jacket lined with orange and white pinstripes for some dude to wave a wad of bills in his face and demand his services. The man looked docile enough; the wild look in his eyes was probably only one of lust for the body of some fair-skinned twink with the ass of Adonis and the horniness of Anthony Wiener at a strip club. His grimy hands with fingernails long enough to be claws had barely wrapped around Dirk Strider's waist before the voice rang out, not without the admonishment and fearsomeness that made Dirk shudder.

 

"Did you hear me, dude? What the fuck do you think you're _doing_?" Dirk failed to turn around, and instead prayed that it was just a dream, just a dream and his older brother did not find him at work and he was not about to be exposed to the entire brothel that he wasn't even 21 yet. His paranoia of this moment had played at him so long that he'd nearly forgotten the fear could actually become truth. _Fuck._ "I know for a fact your lips did not just spontaneously jump right the fuck off your face to go suck a cock or whatnot, even though from what it looks like that's what you were going to do anyways, so I'm waiting to hear some answers." Dirk clutched at the shirt of the man whose lap he was sitting on and buried his face into his neck; it was hardly reassuring.

"Excuse you. Who the fuck said that you could simply. Come over here. And start shouting at my little whore?" The last three words made Dirk shiver in pleasure, but he knew that the skull-faced man meant it in the most literal way possible.

"' _Your little whore?'_ You've gotta be shitting with me." Before the man could even react, Dirk's older brother yanked Dirk off his lap by the collar of his jacket, ripping it in the process. "Lemme let you in on a little secret, Mister I'm-Jobless-And-Horny-And-My-Friends-Tricked-Me-Into-Getting-This-Tattoo-While-I-Was-Drunk-At-My-21st-Birthday-Party. This kid's not supposed to be here."

"He's worked here for more than two months." As the man spoke (what was his name anyway? Cal? Bob?), Dirk clenched his fists against his face. His client was the gravedigger, and he was the naked body lying in the shitty coffin made out of rubber dildos. "It is only now. That I moved fast enough. So I could achieve his services. And promptly pay him well for them."

"Go spend it on removing that tattoo from your face, how about it."

"I like my tattoo. It is superior to those shitty sunglasses that you are stupidly wearing indoors. Because you are stupid."

"Just get the fuck out of here and find some other guy's brother to do all your kinky furry shit with."

" _Dave--_ " No sooner did Dirk try to speak did Dave aim a shaded glare down at him with the corners of his lips curled down. He promptly shut up.

"You are. His brother?" The man let out a sharp chortle. "Why is this important to me?"

"He's seventeen, you shitbag." It only took three seconds for the man's eyes to widen and for him to vacate the area entirely.

 

The two were silent as Dave dragged Dirk through the parking lot and chilly air to his car, but as soon as the doors were closed the dreaded talk fell upon Dirk's head like an enormous elephant turd. "What the fuck were you thinking?" He wasn't shouting, but the tone he took on was one much, much worse than if he were. "2 months ago you were only _sixteen_. Dammit, you should be having your first kiss with some sweet bookworm you met at the library and asked you out to see Monsters University with you and here you are getting fucked by who knows how many wrinkly shits who probably took Cialis with a shot of vodka when you weren't looking."

"I'd rather not have this discussion right n--"

"I'd rather not have to have this discussion ever, bro. I prayed at night as I hugged my Sweet Bro body pillow that I would never have to have a discussion about you having underaged, probably unprotected--"

"It's almost always protected--"

"Yeah, but that 'almost' could've been the one that lands you with HIV or herpes or whateverthefuck and you wouldn't even _know_ until it was too fucking late, Dirk." Dave slammed the palms of his hands against the steering wheel and clutched his face, fingertips gouging indents into his forehead. The sight of his older brother losing his shit so badly was making Dirk hyperventilate, despite the way he managed to keep a straight face. "Look, I don't got a problem with you having sex. It's what happens, you're a horny adolescent with more hormones running through your veins than alcohol through Amy Winehouse's digestive system. But god fucking dammit, Dirk, this kind of shit is _illegal_ and _dangerous_ and you're not even showing respect for yourself, for the goddamn name you live with, by going out and fucking guys or chicks or both or whatever else there is who obviously don't give a shit about you other than the fact that you've got a nice ass."

"My ass is pretty nice, you think?"

"Don't go changing the subject. One of your so-called 'clients' could fucking _kill_ you. If I hadn't found out, if you went out and didn't come back and the next time I fucking saw you you were a mangled face in the local newspaper's obituary section, then." Dave lifted up his shades and scrubbed at his eyes with the heel of his palm. Dirk felt like vomiting. "Fucking Christ, Dirk. Were you abducted by aliens and had your grey matter sucked out of your ear with a toilet plunger, because I can't up and come up with a reason why you're pulling this kind of shit. We're loaded; if you needed cash I would've given you some or found you a respectable job or at the very least helped you look through the job openings in the paper and got you to choose one that was legal and, more importantly, fucking _safe_." A pause settled over their heads as silent tears dripped out of Dave's eyes and fell onto his lap. His own shoes, Dirk found, were suddenly very interesting to look at. He kept his gaze locked on them. "Don't go telling me this is suddenly a cliché plot twist where you're crying for attention, or because you're in deep homos for the older bro who's raised you since you were, like, five and want him to get jealous or some stupid shit like that." Another, longer pause. Dirk hated his older brother's intuition. Dave threw his shades onto the dashboard and turned towards Dirk, eyes red and irises redder. "You're not serious."

"Wouldn't it just be great if I wasn't." A heavy sigh flowed out of Dave's lips as he let his head fall back to the back of his seat. He covered his face with his hand; Dirk took off his pointed shades as well and tossed them next to those of Dave's. "I know you'd be lying if you said that you've never felt the same way about me. Doesn't the media always wonder why you don't show any interest in courting your fellow celebrities?"

"Well there's more than one reason for that." A weak chuckle. "All of them got foot-long stakes up their asses."

"$5 foot-longs."

"Not even. More like 99¢ foot-longs they picked up at the Home Depot with all the splinters and shit included, and just shoved it up their tight anuses as a baptism by fire into the Hollywood paradise of pretentious douchebags."

Dirk snorted. "You say that as if you're not one."

"Takes one to know one." The two of them chuckled together, but the lighter mood did not stay safe from the heavy storm clouds that rolled in overhead. "This isn't right." Dirk pressed his lips together and kicked his feet up on the airbag compartment of the car. It was too warm. He stripped off his leather jacket and tossed it into the back, leaving only his tight V-neck tee on his torso. Dave took off his army jacket and shoved it behind his seat as well.

"Since when has anything concerning us been remotely normal?"

"Since never. Since never is when."

"Exactly. And it's not like anyone would ever find out." Dirk leaned over the console and drummed his fingers along the emergency break. "You're pretty damn good at keeping secrets, in all honesty."

"Oh yeah?"

"You convinced me when I was 12 that milk chocolate was actually made with semen and if I ate too much I'd turn gay."

"And then you proceeded to eat--"

"--all the fucking chocolate you had stashed away in the box labeled 'Scrapbooking materials' on the top shelf in the linen closet."

"And look where we are now. Should've told you it was made with menstrual blood."

"Holy fuck, open the window; I think I'm just going to regurgitate my dinner at the mere thought of something like that."

"Serves you right for eating my chocolate-covered potato chips, bitch." Dave removed the hand from his face and it fell into his lap. He stared at the roof of the car; Dirk stared at him. "You're grounded for two months and your curfew's now 11:00 PM."

Dirk sighed and leaned back into his seat. "Fair enough."

"I'm taking you to the urologist and the pediatrician and getting you checked for any STDs on Monday."

"Fine."

"We're going to have weekly condom checks to make sure you carry at least 7 on you at all times. If you have less than 7 then I will give you whatever amount you need of whatever condoms I hijacked off the Planned Parenthood dudes that hang around that street corner. Or get you a 100-pack of condoms that have a bacon pattern on them. Whichever comes first."

"Please no."

"I will teach you personally all about the mechanics, dynamics, and sexy kinks and how to be safe with them when it comes to having gay sex. Get you a copy of the Kama Sutra, fuck yeah."

"Teach me personally, huh?" A smirk rose to Dirk's face. "Knowing you I'd never get to use them on anybody else."

"Like you'd be interested in anybody else."


End file.
